One Night
by sarahandmarquis
Summary: Two-shot. Kay-based (set during the time of Persia). Rated T. E/OC. The story of a concubine named Ester and her one night with the Angel of Doom. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note:

Dear Readers,

Well, y'all, it appears your authoress has returned. For those who are reading my other unfinished books, I will get to them very soon. You see, during the summer I go through a major writer's block. It always happens and everything goes on hold until summer passes. But, fall is coming in quickly and I'm back to writing! I hope you enjoy this little story! It's not much of anything really. Just an idea I had and decided to make longer than expected. But, I trust you'll enjoy it.

I have rated it as T because of one scene in this particular part. It does get pretty close to a *cough*scene*cough* but doesn't go all the way. So...yeah. Please read and enjoy!

sarahandmarquis

P.S. This is based solely on the Phantom by Susan Kay. All _italicized_ portions are from her most excellent work of which I own a very well-loved copy but not the rights. So, all credit goes to her.

X

I am Ester, daughter of Yasmin, of Persia.

My mother, until the time of her passing, was a member of the Shah's royal harem. My father is believed to have been an important nobleman who was granted rights to my mother for the duration of his visit to the Palace.

He, of course, wanted nothing to do with me so I was, when I was of age, sent to live with the concubines in training so I might learn how to please a man as a girl of my station should. I don't know what happened to my mother after our separation. I often wonder but no one has information on her whereabouts.

For ten years, I have learned the arts of seduction and pleasure. For ten years, I have known not the presence of a true man anywhere near me. Now, at fifteen, all my training has led to one horrible moment.

Concubine of the Angel of Doom.

I am being led by two eunuchs and the Daroga of Mazanderan to the rooms of the devil's own emissary to be his bride.

I know I shan't survive the night.

He is an entity to be feared and I am terrified of him. I have only seen him from a distance, cloak billowing behind him, seemingly sucking away all light that dared to land upon his person. The white mask covers unseen horrors.

I am terrified of what is expected of me.

I notice the Daroga's hands are shaking. He too seems nervous though I know not why. It is common knowledge that he and the Angel of Doom are well acquainted. Rumors have even circulated that the assassin is a friend of his only child.

We always thought such things were exaggerated as none of us could imagine the Angel of Doom as liking children.

My escort and I arrive at his door and I feel my breath coming in quick gasps. I shall never cross back over the threshold once I enter this night!

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip to retrain its trembling but I fail. Tears gather in the corner of my eyes, carefully hidden by the veil for which I am grateful.

I fear incurring his wrath with mussed makeup.

I am painted as a bride but I feel more the part of a sacrifice.

The door opens and we enter, the Daroga reciting the speech that he must have rehearsed many times during our walk here.

I stare at the ground. Perhaps if I am a willing slave, he will see fit to spare me. Perhaps my death shall be quick.

A girl must have some sort of hope.

When he speaks, I instinctively shy away from him. where is the lovely voice they rumored he had? It is so hard. So harsh.

Fear rises higher in my already panicked heart.

I am dragged across the room towards him before being hurled to the floor before his feet. I still refuse to face him. My veil is lifted and I at last dare to look up into his eyes, struggling and failing to hide my absolute fear.

" _How old are you?_ "

His question surprises me.

" _Fifteen, master._ " I whisper.

" _Have they told you what is expected of you?_ "

" _Yes._ " I once more reply. I must meet his every desire. I must bear any tortures his sadistic mind might think pleasurable. I must be his slave.

" _Very well. I have seen what lies behind your veil, my dear. . . now you must be accorded a reciprocal honor. Come forward and remove my mask._ "

I cannot move. I cannot. Thoughts crowd my mind and I cannot stop gazing up at him, horrified. I cannot remove his mask.

" _To refuse me now is to refuse the shah himself. If you resist I shall take you by force and then return you to execution at his hands. But only come to me willingly for this one night and I swear you shall go free at dawn. One night buys you the rest of your life and the means to spend it in honorable comfort. And perhaps, after all, that night will not be so terrible as you fear. . .?_ "

I am so scared. His offer sounds so tempting. One night in exchange for the freedom. He extends a gloved hand down towards me. I stare at the skeletal member with great trepidation.

I am shaking so violently I cannot move. Tears silently streak down my cheeks and I cannot stop them.

One night with the Angel of Doom.

My hand reaches for his before everything goes black.

X

I wake to a dark room. I am covered in a thin blanket and completely alone. For a moment, I think the whole evening was merely a nightmare and I am once more in the safety of the harem.

Voices from outside the room prove me wrong.

I cannot understand them but I know they aren't pleased. Quivering uncontrollably, I slid from the bed and glance downward at my clothes. The silk is creased and I want to cry over it for no reason.

I walk towards the voices and come in contact with a door who handle I soon locate. Quietly turning it, I peek into the room and squeak very quietly as I see the Angel of Doom and the Daroga sitting before a fire, speaking.

It isn't a language I understand. Perhaps it's a European tongue?

I feel oddly calmer now. They don't seem to have heard my noise so I quietly watch them. Them, being mostly the Angel of Doom. His voice is so beautiful. My fear begins to ebb away.

He seems quiet now, simply relaxing in his chair, the firelight dancing off of that white mask. I consider whether or not to retreat back into the room I am in. I could lie down once more and wait for them to come to me.

My choice is taken away when the Daroga looks up and alerts the Angel of Doom to my presence.

I look downward as a proper slave should. He will make me pay for fainting. I cried and fainted. He won't be kind.

I feel his eyes on me and hear whispered words between them before the Daroga leaves.

I am completely alone. I am scared again.

He is calm now. I recall his anger during our last meeting. His unspoken fury fueled my own terror. Yet, his tranquil air does little to abate it now.

There is often a lull before the storm.

I hear him approach and sink to my knees before him, head down in a gesture of submission. I must be obedient, no matter what he plans for me.

"Master." I whisper in acknowledgement of his presence.

"Get up." He snaps. "I won't have you groveling on the floor. Get up, I tell you!" On shaking legs, I rise but refuse to face him.

"Yes, Master." I reply.

"Look at me!" He demands and I look. My heart clenches in fear for the shortest moment as I believe I see anger haunting his golden eyes but, I am wrong. It appears to be merely frustration.

"You will not call me Master."

I am confused.

Not call him master? What shall I call him? I am his slave. Any other title would be the very soul of disrespect.

"What shall I call you then?" I inquire quietly, fearing raised voice might encourage his wrath.

"You needn't call me anything. After tonight you will be leaving. Surely you haven't forgotten our bargain despite your unceremonious fainting spell?"

I shake my head.

"I have not forgotten."

"Good. Shall you require refreshment before your ordeal?" I peer into his eyes, hoping beyond hope to find some sort of humanity but finding none at all. His eyes are blank as the desert sand.

"Might…might I wash my face?" The salt from my tears still clings to my face. It burns my skin and I needn't more reason to add to the previous flows from my eyes.

Wordlessly, he points to a small door and I quickly disappear through it. The water is cold and I appreciate the stillness to gather my thoughts.

One night with the Angel of Doom.

This set soundly in my mind, I return to the main room where my master is standing near the fire.

A glance is all that is needed between us before he holds out his hand to me. I am afraid but I go to him nonetheless.

I grip his hand and shudder from the cold seeping through the leather glove. My eyes must have betrayed me as he looks away when he leads me back to the bedroom where I woke.

We stand opposite each other in the room. He lights a few small candles. Perhaps he wishes to see me? I stand perfectly still as he studies me for a moment before demanding,

"Undress." I nod slowly and begin to pull at the ties which held my silk trappings against my body. Each piece falls away, beginning with the upper body and ending with the dainty shoes on my feet.

I am completely nude before him. Every asset of my body is on display for his viewing pleasure.

He stares at me for the longest of moments. Lust is in his eyes and I wait for him to undress. He doesn't. Instead he draws near me and circles me. I shiver in the slight cold of the room and his appraisal of me. Perhaps he doesn't like girls as young as I. My body is filled out in the places where it matters but I am only fifteen.

I shudder from cold and fear when he touches my shoulder with his bare hand. His light fingers trail along my back, leaving goosebumps all over my dark skin.

He steps in front of me and runs his hands down my arms and waist before cupping my breasts in his hands. He stares at them as if he has never seen this aspect of the female anatomy.

"Lay down on the bed. Face down." He orders. I hear the strongly restrained desire in his tone and feel it from his fingers as they tighten for a moment on my sensitive globe.

I obey his command and await what he has in mind.

Moments later the bed dips beside me and his hands once more begin to trace my body. I quiver beneath him but not in pleasure. How can one find pleasure in the hands of someone one fears?

One night with the Angel of Doom.

I repeat it over and over in my head.

He can't kiss me unless the mask is removed. I fear I won't be able to endure the sight of that horror. I am not strong!

His hands grow in their intensity, grasping at my body. Has he never felt a female's body? I bite my lip to keep it from trembling but, he knows. The hands slow and began gentle. It is as if he can't stop touching me. What is the draw of my soft skin?

"Turn over." He whispers into my ear. I obey. What he says, I will do.

One night with the Angel of Doom.

He nuzzles my breasts. Unable to kiss them but determined to be close. I don't understand this. I won't move. I was taught how to please a man but he doesn't seem interested in anything I might know. He only wants the physical proof of my existence.

His hands never bruise my skin. He is controlled. His eyes are glazed over with lust. There is no stopping now!

As his hands trail lower, I hear tears. For the shortest moment I believe it has come from me but my eyes are dry.

I peer into his golden pools and they are damp.

The Angel of Doom cries?

He pillows his head into my abdomen as if to hide his tears but I have already seen them.

I cannot completely explain what happened when I realize he can weep. Until this moment, he had been a fiend from hell. A creature to be feared and hated. These tears made him human and, with them, my fears begin to wash away. He isn't a good man but he is a man.

Our eyes connect and I smile at him.

I smile and he abandons the bed.

"Dress." He orders.

Once more I am confused.

"D-dress?" I ask as I watch him bend down and toss me the slips of silk I had been wearing. He yanks his gloves back onto his hands.

"Dress, you stupid girl." I recoil from his temper and hug the items close to me, curling against myself to hide my more private parts.

With a snarl, he sweeps from the room. I slip back into the garments and lay on the bed, shivering. Tears threaten my eyes and I give in, heartily sobbing for no reason whatsoever.

X

I must have fallen asleep after my master and I's failed coupling. I wake, once more tucked under a warm blanket. I sit up and look around me. The sun is shining through dark curtains and I huddle beneath the blankets, fearing what may step through the door.

I am shocked when I hear a soft rapping and the gentle voice of the Daroga.

"Girl? Are you awake?"

"Yes." I call out quietly.

"May I enter?" I respond to the affirmative and he steps into the room, giving me a quiet smile as he approaches.

"Are you well?" He asks. "I found you asleep and shivering. Did he hurt you?" He kneels down beside the bed and takes my hand in his. His fatherly tone sets me at ease and I shake my head.

"He didn't hurt me. He didn't do anything. I smiled and he ran away." Again, I burst into tears. Despite having rested twice since my removal from the harem, I am so tired. I am hungry. I want something of which I have no name to call it by.

The Daroga seems to understand a little of my distress and returns a few moments later with food for me. I eat what I can through my tears and position.

How hard it is to eat while curled in on one's self.

And hour later, I am finally calm enough for the Daroga to question me a little concerning the happenings of the night before.

"You say he did nothing? What do you mean?"

"He touched me. All over. But, I'm…I'm…" I blush to speak of it but continue, "still a virgin. I smiled at him. He tossed my clothes to me and left!"

The Daroga seems moderately confused and I curl even tighter into myself.

"What happens to me now?" I whisper.

"I know not, child." He gives me a comforting smile. "I shall speak to him myself. You must rest. Perhaps after some restful sleep you'll be of a clearer mind." He picks up a cup of some hot liquid and hands it to me. "Drink. It will help you sleep."

I nod and drink the bitter contents down without questions.

Soon I feel drowsy.

"Sleep, child. I shall get to the bottom of this."

I smile at him and tug the blankets around me.

I hear the door close as I again fall asleep.

X

I pace the floor of the sitting room and wait for the return of its other inhabitant. I do not understand what Erik was thinking. He wanted her; I saw it in his eyes when she was brought in. He desired her body above all else.

Why didn't he take her?

By Persian law she was his wife. She belonged to him. He owned her, yet he refused to accept it.

Then there is the khanum to think of. This girl had been her way of punishing Erik. She would demand proof of the girl's loss of purity. She would demand it and a little blood on the sheets might not be sufficient to convince her.

I wonder at times if Erik truly means to get himself killed in this land.

"Fool."

"Who is a fool?" I hear Erik ask from behind me. I spin around to face him, once more astounded at how easily he slips in undetected.

"You are a fool."

"Why am I a fool?" He gives me a lazy smile and makes his way over to his chair. Even without the smoke clinging to his clothes, I know where his past hours have been spent.

"An opium den, Erik?"

He nods.

"Where else?"

"You're mad, Erik! Mad!"

"Erik has always been mad. Nothing new." He leans back and closes his eyes. "What have I done this time to incur your displeasure?"

"It's more what you haven't done. I want an explanation about the girl." He looks up at me as if he doesn't understand.

"What girl?"

"The gift. Your wife." I emphasize the points and watch him begin to laugh.

"Ah, I had forgotten." He pulls himself to his feet and walks over to a drawer and withdraws a bag of gold. "Give this to her. Tell her to make her life better. I shan't be pleased to hear if she does foolish things with it." He places the bag into my hands and runs a hand through his sparse hair. "I am tired." He smiled to himself and returns to his couch to nap.

I wish he could find peace through something other than that drug.

Why did I ever show it to him?

As his eyes close, I know I shall get nothing more from him. Perhaps when the drug has left his system, he shall be logical once more.

I take the gold and return to the room where the girl lays. She is still quite sound asleep and will likely be for many more hours.

The draught I gave was strong.

I fine another set of sheets and smear a little of my own blood onto an area that would be approximately correct. If this doesn't fool the khanum, then we shall have to try something else. For now, this will have to be adequate.

I don't want to see my friend or this poor girl go through the punishment they are risking.

When the sheets have been set aside to be gathered by the servants, I find a seat and a book and wait.

X

I awaken without little knowledge of time and only the smallest memory of my place. I shiver a bit before slipping out of the bed and picking up the hem of a silk gown laying over a chair. It is far too expensive for me to wears so I leave it alone and venture once more into the main room.

I am greeted with the tired but kind eyes of the Daroga.

I bow politely to him as he sets his book aside and stands.

"Do you feel better?" He inquires and I nod. The food and rest helped calm my nerves. I am still scared but the tears aren't so lcose to the surface as they have been for the past day.

"Are you hungry?" Before I can agree, my stomach agrees for me and I blush. He chuckles and gestures for me to follow him into the small kitchen.

A fine, if simple, meal is spread out on the table.

"Eat, child." I look at him for a moment before descending upon the meal with a vengeance. As I eat, he watches me. I look away from him and then quietly ask,

"What will happen to me?" I haven't performed my duty and, if anything, I have failed it. My master didn't want me. Rejection is lethal.

"You will stay here until I can speak with your master. He doesn't like to follow rules. Unfortunately, not following them may end with your dying. I shall do all I can."

I nod once and finish my meal. The henna is still bright and I hide my hands in the folds of my silk garments.

"I left the dress for you to change into. Would you like a bath?" I nod once more. A bath sounds lovely! My skin itches and I want nothing more than to soak in something cool.

"Yes, I would, Sir."

"Then, I will show you how to work the bath."

The Daroga shows me and leaves me to clean myself.

I strip the bits of silk off my body and run my fingers over my body, surprised at a few marks on my skin. My master must have gripped harder than I thought.

While I may never look at my body the same again, I don't feel violated.

I fill the tub with water from the taps and slide into the cool liquid, relishing the feeling of it rushing over my tired body and cleansing it of any foulness.

I will trust the Daroga with what shall happen to me.

He has been kind to me.

X

I wait for Erik to wake from his stupor and I can only hope he is in a pleasant mood. I am not consensual with being strangled this evening.

I hear the girl finish her bath and I see her slip between the bathroom and the bedroom, the silk remnants of her outfit, covering private parts.

Moments later, she emerges, clothed in the brown silk gown with the gold embroidery.

She is beautiful.

I do not blame Erik for struggling to resist his desire. I only wish to know why he did.

She approaches me quietly and takes a seat on the floor near me. Her brown eyes are filled with fear but she is under control.

Tears won't fall now.

Her eyes stray to the prostrate form of Erik and then back to me.

"Will he hurt me?" I suppose she is somewhat at ease with me. I don't mind. I am old enough to be her father after all.

"I don't know, child. I have never see him hurt a woman." Many, many men though. He is a murderer of men.

"Will he be gentle?" I don't know the answer to this so I shrug. She trembles and hugs herself.

"I'm frightened."

"Of what, child?"

"I don't know. Him, this place, my job." My heart reaches out to her as I admonish,

"He is but a man. You must understand that. Think of him as a man and resist your fear. Fear will only drive him to madness."

She nods and runs her fingers over the henna.

"He has always been a fiend. A messenger from the abbess. Death's own general. I am young! I don't know what to do."

I begin to refer to her as 'child' as I realize I have yet to learn her name.

"What is your name, child?"

"Ester."

"Meaning star." I smile at her. "Perhaps you shall be a star to him."

"I don't think I am strong enough." She whispers, scooting towards him, her henna adorned hand reaching out to his slumbering body before yanking it back against her body.

"Perhaps you are."

"He promised that one night with him and I would be free. What will happen to me when I am free? I know nothing beyond how to please a man."

"You might find someone to teach you a trade. Or even a husband of your own choosing?" The girl hangs her head.

"Would I be safe here?" Her gaze is damp as tears fill her eyes. I sense she simply wants someone to hold her and whisper it will be all right. But, I don't know if it will be.

"Yes." I respond though I am not sure.

"Then, if he should resume the bargain, I should like to remain here for a while before I am sent away. I am too bold for saying so?" I shake my head.

"No, child, you are not. I am not your master. You may speak to me freely through the entirety of our acquaintance."

"Thank you, sir." She replies before standing and retreating towards the bedroom. "I should like to rest now." Her eyes linger on the sleeping form on the couch before she vanishes back behind the door.

I sit and wait for Erik to wake.

X

He wakes sometime near midnight. He is at first groggy so I don't bother him with any of the problems currently besetting us. He eats something and plays his violin for nearly an hour before he decides to notice my attempts at gaining his attention.

"What do you want?" I watch him set the violin down and I gesture towards the door.

"There has been a new development involving your bride."

"A new development? I thought she would be long gone by now. Surely you gave her the gold?"

I shake my head.

"She is a frightened to be on her own. She asked me if she would be safe here and then requested that she be allowed to stay beyond your bargain." Erik gazes at me, going over the provided information several times in his brain.

"She wishes to stay?

"Yes. I promised her she would be safe here."

"I don't hurt women." Erik mutters beneath his breath and returns to his violin playing, completely ignoring me once more. I think about going to Ester to tell her the news but decide against it. Erik can tell her when it suits him.

I can say nothing more to him right now.

I say my goodbyes and leave for home.

X

When Nadir has been gone for a great length of time, I set down my violin and look towards my bedroom door.

Beyond the wood is a woman.

My wife by Persian law.

A girl brave enough to suffer through my advances to gain her freedom.

She who smiled at me.

My heart thunders as I remember the sight of her, naked in my bed, a smile on her face. I cried and she smiled.

I am weak. I desired her body for she was very beautiful. Dainty feet, long legs, broad hips, narrow waist, full bosom, and perfect face. All of it painted in the loveliest shade of caramel. I should have taken her. But, I am no man. I am a monster. Her smile struck me in ways I don't understand. Perhaps I never will.

I think of her as so young, yet I am no more than ten years her senior.

I approach the bedroom door and crack it open, peering around the door.

She is sleeping beneath covers, her dark eyes hidden by black eyelashes. She doesn't stir as I sneak to her side and reach out, hoping to capture the feeling of her skin once more against mine. Just before our hands connect, I yank my fingers back.

I shouldn't touch her. I abused her too much already.

She is so bold.

I admire the slope of her jaw and the gentle flow of air from between her lips. They are plump. I wonder in passing what they might feel like on mine.

I shake the thoughts from my mind.

I shan't ever kiss her or any other woman.

As I study her features, her brown eyes open and she into my eyes, fear filling hers yet she doesn't pull away.

"Sir?" I remember my command for her to never call me 'master' and I rise quickly, placing distance between us.

"The Daroga informed me that you wish to remain here until future notice?" She nods quickly.

"I have no money, Sir. If you would be so kind to your servant as to allow her a corner in your apartment until she has money, she would be most grateful."

I wave away her supplications.

"You earned your freedom last night. This is yours." I pass her the bag of gold sitting by her head.

She takes it from me and opens it, her eyes widening.

"Sir…" She whispered, pulling out one of the gold pieces.

"You are no man's slave. Use it responsibly." I turn away and depart, the final sounds ringing in my ears are those of her counting her fortune.

When I wake in the morning, she is long gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note:

Dear Readers,

Welcome to the second installment of my little story! I just wanted to make a quick note here...I took some very very great liberties with this section of the book. For those of you who know Phantom backwards and forwards, you will see it in a moment. I read that section and said to myself "this is a fanfiction. We are here to change things." So, I have placed the poisoning attempt AFTER the presentation of the concubine. So, if y'all will please forgive this, it seemed the best and quickest way to the further the plot (and murder your pheels).

I hope this won't distract too much from your enjoyment of my little book!

sarahandmarquis

X

A week has passed since I fled the apartment of the Angel of Doom.

I am cold. The desert isn't warm at night and I have nothing. The gold my master was generous enough to bestow upon his servant girl was stolen the first night, save for a few pieces I had slipped into my undergarments.

I was fortunate enough to escape with my life and virginity.

I fear staying on the streets. I fear returning to my master. He instructed me to be careful with the gold and I lost it! I fear his wrath.

But, as I am finding out, the stomach calls loudly and I cannot resist its pleading for sustenance which I will only find in the apartment of the Angel of Doom.

I make my way to the palace gates and whimper as I see the guards. I cannot slip by them. I am too weak to the climb the walls and they won't let me inside.

I look like a beggar now.

Tears streak down my cheeks as I turn away and hide myself in some bushes, hoping the leaves will block some of the night wind.

Then, I form a plan. My master rides frequently between the current palace the one he is building some miles away. I shall wait for him to leave and then, on my hands and knees, plead for him to help me.

Even if that help is merely to strangle the breath from my lungs.

I have been faced with the reality that I am incapable of living on my own. No one wants a rejected harem girl.

I was a fool that night to believe that one could survive on gold alone.

If my old master doesn't want me, perhaps he will grant me mercy and end my existence.

I must hide and wait. And pray he leaves before I weaken too severely to ask for his aid.

X

The girl never leaves my mind. For the past week the scent and feel of her have haunted my nightmares. Even opium gives no relief.

Nadir and I do not speak of her and so I have no name for her.

Last night was no exception from the dreams and as I prepare for a day at the work site. Her image must be forced from my mind. I will concentrate on my work and forget the girl who I will never see.

Why must I be a monster?

I leave the palace in a hurry, my black mood following me like my black cloak. The sun has barely risen and I know I look like the devil I am.

My horse waits at the gate, held by a quaking guard. I snatch his reins away from the man and swing into the saddle. The guards at the gate step several feet away from me as I spur the creature away.

I barely make a hundred yards before I see a black lump lying in the road.

As I draw near, the lump looks up at me, brown eyes laced with tears and black hair matted.

Her.

I stop the horse in front of her but do not dismount.

"Master…" Her voice is too weak for me to hear it properly. Her racing pulse is visible in her neck and her breathing is labored.

I should leave her in the road.

She didn't obey me and is paying for it.

But I can't.

I dismount my horse and kneel beside her.

Her dress is torn. She is covered in mud. Her hand reaches towards me and she faints. I gather her in my arms. A woman is lying in my arms. A living, breathing woman. I swallow nervously and slowly climb back onto my horse, her balanced neatly in the crooks of my arms.

My horse carries us back to the palace where I return her to my rooms. I am about to lay her down when I once more notice the state of her clothing.

Panicked, I try to think of another way than the one which is presenting itself.

I don't want to see her unclothed again. I don't know if I could resist.

I don't know why she came to me for aid. I would have thought she wouldn't return to me ever again.

There is no other choice and I go about the process of disrobing her, bathing her and cleaning her injuries.

What a pretty piece of hell she has turned out to be.

X

I wake once more tucked into the silken sheets of the bed. I am dressed in some sort of silk nightgown as I realize my master must have undressed and bathed me.

Perhaps I should feel embarrassed or violated but I do not. My body is my master's to do with as he pleases.

I only hope whatever he has planned as appropriate punishment won't be too horrendous.

When he found me he didn't appear too angry. His eyes didn't hold any emotion I could identify really.

As I think, the door opens and I look up into the golden eyes of the Angel of Doom. I look downward and away from him, submissive as always.

I hear him approach me and hear the rattle of dishes as he sets a tray down beside me.

"I wondered when you'd wake." He says softly as he hands me a few pillows so I may prop myself up. I do so while never making eye contact.

"Thank you, master. Thank you for bringing me back." I worry for a moment when I notice his fists clinching.

"I'm not your master." He says. "Eat. You look starved." I turn to face him at this and take the plate he held out to me.

I steal a look into his eyes. He seems so distant and cold. He wears a mask that shows his chin and lips. I am surprised at the emaciation. The bits of jaw I can see are angular.

"Thank you." I whisper as I begin to eat. It is delicious and even though I am still afraid of him I am glad I have returned.

"What to the money?" He asks and I lower my head in shame.

"It was stolen, Sir."

"I should have known you couldn't have protected that much gold."

"Forgive me, Sir. I am too weak to live on my own."

"You have no experience."

"I know you do not want me. But, I beg of you to let me stay! I will serve you in any way you wish!" I turn to him and clasp my hands together, pleading with him.

He turns away from him and I am forced to stare at his back.

I keep eating slowly, waiting for him to make up his mind.

A while of silence later, he turns back to me. He is frowning.

"You may stay with me. I will teach you how to live on your own. I do not wish to be saddled with you for the rest of my life here."

"Thank you, Sir! Thank you!" I press my clasped hands to my forehead and bow to him as well as I can while in bed.

"What's your name?" He asks.

"Ester, Sir."

"When you are finished eating, Ester, dress. I shall give you instructions as to your chores."

I hurry to finish. I shall be the Angel of Doom's servant.

At least I shall be warm and fed.

X

I love him.

That morning when he allowed me to remain as his servant, I never imagined I might one day love him. Love is not often found in this country.

But, I do love him.

He always treats me as an equal. We sometimes talk in the evenings and he is teaching me French and English. I clean and cook and keep the apartment in order. He feeds, clothes, and provides a cot for me.

It is a fine arrangement.

A month after my return, I learned his name is Erik. I of course never use it when addressing him but I often catch my mind thinking of him by his common name.

I know not what he looks like beneath the mask but I don't care how horrible he may appear. He is but the man I love. Poor esthetics don't bother me.

He doesn't love me.

I am convinced.

Sometimes, I see him undressing me with his eyes but his fingers never follow.

I am his servant but I am still a gift to him. He could take me if he wished. I wouldn't resist. He would be welcome and I would show him I love him without words.

The khanum never once questioned the blood which the Daroga put on the sheet so he has never been required to go further than he did the first night.

I am cleaning.

This evening he went out to the wedding party of the Shah.

He had been planning a grand trick with a skeleton and I am excited to hear how well it goes.

It is growing late and I begin to worry.

Parties going until dawn aren't uncommon but I am inexplicably nervous. something is wrong. I wish I knew.

I pace and fret, unable to relax.

Suddenly, the door bursts open and Erik stumbles through. My eyes widen and I rush to his side.

"Sir!" I cry but he pushes me away.

"Leave!" He orders before vanishing into the bathroom. I hear gagging and wrenching from within. Terrified beyond imagination, I rush after him and drop to my knees beside as he coughs blood into the bath.

"Sir!" I cry again, reaching out to him. I don't know what to do. He must command me!

"Get. Out!" He shouts, his lips covered in blood and his golden mask flecked with it. "Leave!" Violently, he grabs me and throws me towards the door.

I am a slender creature and he is strong.

I know I will have a few bruises from the impact.

Shaking, I flee the room.

I must find the Daroga!

He must know how to help my master!

I run through the palace halls. Through my panicked tears, I see the Daroga striding down the halls towards me.

He sees my expression and my panic leaps to him.

"Ester! What has happened?" He demands of me.

"Erik!" I cry out, unable to explain what else is happening. Neither him nor I notice my verbal indiscretion.

One word is enough for him to understand something is greatly wrong. He grabs my arm and drags me after him. I run as fast as I can; tears pour down my cheeks.

"Blood! Blood…coughing!" I cannot speak more than a few words but I hope it is enough for him to understand.

The Daroga silences me.

We arrive at the apartment and he rushes through the door, giving me orders to remain outside once I point towards the bathroom.

The door closes behind him and I lay my ear against it so I might hear what is happening to my master.

" _The wine. How many times have I warned you to employ a taster?_ "

" _If you don't mind. . . I should prefer to conduct my final performance without an audience. . . . Ask nicely and I'm sure they'll give you your money back at the door!_ " There is a pause. " _Go away! I don't want you here. . . I don't want anyone. . ._ "

" _Stop wasting your strength. Do you have any idea what you may have taken?_ "

" _No, I've made no study . . . of your crude Persian toxins . . . I don't make a habit . . . of poisoning people as a rule. It's not a form of death I find . . ._ esthetically _pleasing._ "

" _Ground glass would account for the internal bleeding. There are various substances with which it could have been combined. Most of them produce a protracted and agonizing death._ "

" _How long?_ "

" _Those who are lucky die within forty-eight hours, but I have known a strong man to linger up to ten days._ "

" _Ten days. Then . . . I could get to Ashraf?_ "

" _You could never endure that journey in this condition._ "

" _I must. There are . . . instructions . . . I have yet to give . . . And I must see . . . with my own eyes . . . one last time._ "

" _You'll die on the road long before we reach the palace. Why give yourself so much more necessary pain?_ "

" _The pain is nothing . . . compared to the regret . . . the_ frustration _! Nadir_ –" His voice vanished so that I could no longer hear it.

A painful sob rips through me as I tear myself away from the door. Quickly, I move to my cot and tuck a nightgown into a bag along with some things I know my master enjoys.

A couple books, mostly in French of which I don't understand but can pronounce enough to read them to him, his violin, and all his money.

The Daroga left the bathing chamber and looks towards me and then the bag in my hands.

"You wish to go with us?"

I nod.

"I am going."

"I am fetching a carriage for him. Be ready to leave before dawn."

I once more nod.

"I will."

X

Our trip the shell of a palace is reeked with pain. My master is so ill but still lucid. He lays still and I reach out every now and then to gently touch his hand.

He has entrusted many documents and plans to Daroga. The finality of this action scares me.

He knows he's going to die.

I can't let him go.

I try to forget he is dying.

I refuse to acknowledge I am going to lose the man I love.

We reach the palace and Erik is loaded onto a litter; I walk beside him. I am his servant. I will be faithful until the end.

Erik sits up on one elbow and calls out furiously,

" _Give me those papers! And fetch the master mason here to me now!_ " As one of the many workers darts off, he pulls himself to his feet. I reach out to stop him but he only uses my hand to stand up.

"Sir…" I begin to beg him to lay down once more but he silences me when the master mason arrives. He ignores me and addresses the man,

" _You have not followed my instructions. Why?_ "

" _Forgive me, master. I did my best . . . but the specifications were so – so complex . . . I did not understand them._ " He stammers and kneels before the Angel of Doom.

Erik grabs a whip and struck the man's shoulders. He falls backward and almost to the ground.

" _Next time you don't understand something, ask, damn you!_ Ask!"

"You weren't here, master!" I hear and comprehend the terror in his words. He fears the Angel of Doom much like I did so long ago. "You weren't here to ask. It has been more than three weeks since you came to us."

The whip drops from Erik's hand.

" _Yes, you are right . . . This is a damnable way to build. Get up now . . . are you hurt?_ "

" _No, master._ " I step forward a moment to offer my hand towards the man who accepts it and rises. I quickly slip behind Erik's back once more.

" _You are very fortunate that I lacked the strength to break your neck. Come to my tent now and I will go through the plans with you . . . give you my last instructions. You will listen very carefully – and you will not be afraid to tell me if you do not understand. I swear to you now that as long as you show me honesty I will show you no more anger._ "

I suspect more because of his weariness than any kindness.

The moon is high in the sky before the master mason is done.

" _Are you sure?_ " Erik demands, insistent that the man understood all his complicated plans.

" _Yes, master._ " The man leaves and Daroga watches him leave. I watch Erik and see him begin to sway. I dart forward just in time to break his fall.

X

" _It was an accident. It was an accident. . . . I didn't mean to make her fall. . . . I didn't want you to see. . . . . Oh, Father . . . way did you make me do it . . ._ why?"

I hold his head in my lap and try to ply him with water. He is nearing his death.

His fingers grab my arms, leaving small bruises.

" _Give me back my mask! Give me back my mask and let me go home. . . . I hate it here. . . . I hate this cage . . . this filthy cage!_ "

Daroga helps me restrain him while he fights us. Tears slips from my eyes as I hold the man I love even closer to my body.

He quiets.

Tears shimmer in his eyes.

" _Where's Sasha? Where is she?_ " Fear is in his tone and I quickly assure him she is with us so he may quiet. I feel a stab of jealousy. Who is this Sasha?

" _Don't let her out tonight. Promise me you won't let her out . . . promise me!_ " The Daroga and I quickly promise him.

Before we reach the Daroga's home, he slips into a coma.

X

He is quiet now, resting in a bed. He sleeps without a sign of pain. His limbs are still and I weep.

The Daroga knows I care for my master and he has left us alone.

I sit by his bed, holding his hand and running my fingers over the veins. I removed his gloves. I should think of him in his last hours but I can't help but think of myself.

I shall never hear his voice again.

I shall never see his eyes look into mine again.

I shall never have the chance of his caring about me.

I force these thoughts from my mind.

When he dies, I shall die with him. It is quite simple.

A bit of poison and we shall rest together.

I weep and press his hand to my face. I tremble as I recall his hands against my body. He could have been cruel but he wasn't.

"Je t'aime." I whisper to his unconscious form. "Je t'aime. Je t'aime."

I learned those words in secret. I learned them so I might speak to him in his native tongue.

Now I whisper them to his dying body.

X

I am dying.

I feel the life slipping slowly but surely from my blood.

I hurt but I don't move. I am weak.

I feel nothing and hear nothing.

Nightmares flood me as I relive ever moment of my awful life. There was nothing sweet. Nothing that I wish to recall.

Then, a pretty face appears. Her eyes are brown and her hair black. Her skin the perfect shade of caramel and her figure so graceful.

She stares down at me, her face such a picture of innocent pretty and kindness.

This must be a memory of a dream I had forgotten.

Her fingers reach towards my face and I watch tears pour from her eyes. I have made another angel cry.

"Je t'aime." The words are a whisper and I know I have imagined them. Such pretty words that have never been pointed towards me.

When I don't respond, the angel begins to cry even more, her face crumpling into more tears.

"Je t'aime! Je t'aime!" Her words are wails now.

Must I cause pain even as I die?

"Come back to me. I beg of you." Her fingers caress my cheek. "Please don't die. For the sake of your servant girl." Her eyes lower.

I cannot resist her. I open my eyes to the world I had closed off for so long.

I will live.

As my eyes weakly scan the room, I feel pressure on my hand. I glance to the side and see my servant girl gripping my hand tightly in hers, pressing it against her face.

My hand is wet with her tears.

Her pronunciation is awful.

She loves me.

My heart, only recently having returned from dying, thunders and pounds. She loves me! I wish to rejoice! To hold her tightly to myself and weep for joy!

Logic rears its head.

She hasn't seen beneath my mask.

She doesn't know what love is. She is too young.

I am a fool. She has imagined herself in love so as to endure my presence.

The poor child. I shall release her as soon as I am well.

Perhaps the Daroga will accept her, take care of her.

I am a poison. The Devil's own son. She would only waste affection of any sort if she bestowed it upon my undeserving carcass.

The Daroga will take good care of her.

My heart throbs.

I have long loved her.

How could something so perfect not weasel her way into one's heart?

She is safer away from me.

Love of a monster is poison.

X

I pull away from his hand and quickly go about drying it. I have embarrassed myself thoroughly by weeping. I wouldn't want the Daroga to walk in and find I have been so fragile.

I clean his hand and dry my face.

I finish and once more pick up the book and begin reading. I don't understand most of the words and so I know I have failed pronunciation but perhaps it will ease him nonetheless.

I glance over.

His eyes look steadily into mine.

I scream.

Daroga is there in moments, obviously expecting my master to have expired. We help him sit up and give him food. I hope he hasn't heard anything I have said.

But the way he looks at me, I know he has heard me.

He shall soon throw me out of his service.

I want to tear my heart from my chest.

I go about my duties, caring for him as best as I can.

The next day, as I return with hot water so he may bath, I pause at the door and hear the Daroga and my master speaking.

"Nadir, I want you to take Ester. Take her into your service."

"Why?"

"She loves me. She loves me. I heard her. I can't let her stay with me while she is under such a delusion."

"Delusion?"

"Yes, for what else could it be? She is so young. She believes herself in love with me. Such a belief might cause her harm. Take her away and keep her with your servants."

A sob breaks from my lips but I cover my mouth and keep listening.

"If you wish, Erik. Will you miss her?"

"How could I not? She has become a vital part of my life. I love her, Nadir!" Tears are in his voice and the tray I am holding clatters to the ground at his confession.

 _He_ loves me!

He _loves_ me!

He loves _me_!"

The door is opened and the Daroga sees me there. A kindly smile is in his eyes as he leaves the room.

"Speak to him, child. You two of all people deserve some happiness."

I am crying again as I step around the broken dishes and fallen platter. Yet these are happy tears! So unlike those I have cried since the wedding party.

I read unspoken fear in his eyes as I approach the bed. He is propped up on one elbow.

Those golden eyes pierce me deeply.

"Forgive me…" He whispers as he hangs his head. I boldly sit beside him.

"Forgive you? For what?" I ask quietly. Love may be shared between us but I am still his servant girl. I must not step out of line.

"For loving you." He looks up pleadingly at me. "You must get away! Get away from me!" I should obey and step away but I don't. I draw near and take his free hand in mine.

"Why must I go away?" I ask, kneeling beside his bed.

"You must be safe. I break all I touch." I shake my head.

"You've never broken me."

"I never admitted I loved you before. You must escape while you can." He is weak and falls back onto the pillows.

I shake my head once more.

"I love you. I won't leave. I'm not under a delusion. I love you."

"It's not safe. You don't know what monster you are offering your love to!" For once I determine to speak my mind.

"Yes, I do know to whom I offer my love. To a man. Remember that first night? You cried. You let me go. A monster wouldn't do either. I knew from that moment you were a man. Not the fiend I had long believed you to be."

I take his other hand in mine. They are shaking violently. He tries to pull them away but I hold them firmly and gently pull off the black gloves, revealing his scarred, thin hands.

"These are human hands. I love a man."

I don't know where I have found this strength to talk. But, I keep talking.

"These fingers may have wrought great horror and death but they are still beautiful. They make beautiful music and fantastical tricks!"

I reach forward and touch his chest, racked with tremors.

"You have a good heart. You want to be loved, appreciated. I understand."

Tears gush from his eyes as he throws himself forward, his long arms wrapping around my waist and his head landing against my stomach.

He sobs and I hold him.

He is lost and I am his rock.

He lifts his head and began to furiously grapple with the strings of his mask. I watch in shock as he yanks the contraption away from his face and throws it aside, baring his visage for me to see.

He thinks I will leave.

I don't.

No words are needed. I lean brazenly lean forward and begin to kiss away his tears. He is deformed. I still love him.

He lays his head against my bosom and cries more.

When he is stronger, there will be rejection. He will doubt me. I am no fool. It is not easy to love the Angel of Doom. But I have chosen that path.

He looks up at me.

I look down at him.

Our faces draw near.

Our lips meet in our first kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note:

Dear Readers,

Ah, we have arrived at the end. Please leave a review of what you thought. I enjoyed writing this thoroughly and would love to know what all you thought about it. Yes, I did leave out Reza...as cute as he is and as much as I love him, I couldn't add too many characters or subplots as this was supposed to be something short...so, I just kinda left him out. Please forgive me! He's a little dear who I absolutely love but he just didn't fit. ;(.

sarahandmarquis

X

I am Ester, daughter of Yasmin, and wife of Erik Mulheim, a Frenchman.

Our marriage has been a long one though not due to any discomfort between us. My husband recovered wonderfully from his poisoning and to this day bears almost no ill effects of the attempt.

His addition to opium was another matter.

He tells me his voice has never been the same.

I still think it the most beautiful thing in the world.

He abandoned it as my request and never turned back to the awful drug. I do not believe that he has spent our entire marriage completely free of any opiates but to my knowledge he has never taken them as a habit.

We fled from Persia as soon as he was capable of leaving. It was a long road until we reached Paris, where he hoped to attach himself to the building of the Paris Opera House, so he married me as soon as we were over the border into Greece.

He told me on our wedding day there would be no children.

We are the proud parents of seven, four sons and three daughters.

Our first son was an unwelcome surprise and, from the moment he held the babe in his shaking arms, I knew Erik II wouldn't be an only child.

We are now far up in years. My beauty has faded and the long legs and slender waist he loved so much to stroke have now succumbed to time.

He still says I am the most beautiful creature he has ever laid eyes on.

We live alone now that our children have left us in preference of their spouses or professions. Erik planted me a rose garden, filled with red roses.

I fell in love with them the moment I saw them blooming in the gardens of France.

I miss my home country sometimes but whenever I do, Erik plays for me some tune from there and we may spend an evening speaking my native tongue.

I don't miss it as much then.

His chest is weak so we spend many nights at home, simply content in each other's company. Our children may drop by to visit but we are mostly left alone.

We don't mind.

We are still in love and need no one else to make us happy.

We sometimes still chuckle at how our relationship began. I smile and kiss his cheek and whisper that I love him. He returns my smiles and kisses my lips, saying that he wonders how an angel of my quality returned after his manhandling of me. I merely laugh and shake my head.

I do not regret that one night with the Angel of Doom.


End file.
